Heart of it all
by Trapped-in-your-asylum
Summary: For no matter how much Shizuo hates Izaya, it was always himself that he hates most. Izaya went to Kyoto, sending Shizuo an odd message beckoning him to go there. It was a picture of a finger. Dark fic. Shizaya Ratings may change later. Read chapter 2 for clarification


Heart of it all

AN= Rewritten

Pairings = Shizuo x Izaya

Disclaimer = i don't own durarara

The Fool

Often Shizuo would find himself staring at the stains that have formed on the sliding door, a pool of brown stain coloring the old door.

Every once in a while, he would see it quiver- the stains spluttering into blotches of separated liquids and imitating the shape of a monster- one that has no head and dances along like serpents in the water.

When he would find himself awake, all that was left from the dream was the tremors on his hand and the sweat that washes down his body.

Running his fingers down his oil-rimmed blond mess, he knew this dream wasn't the first time he had.

.

When a man came to give him a well-wrapped package, he felt the veins bulging from his temples as he saw the name of the sender.

The man- who was fretting by now flew away in fear before he can even sign the receipt, good, that way no violence would occur- ignoring the strong throbbing in his head- he silently wonders what prank the flea is playing on him right now- he wonders what kind of face he's making right now.

Neatly written at the edge of the package- the writing a bit faded with the sweat in Shizuo's hand, he could read the words inscribed in it quite perfectly, "Come see me, Shizu chan."

The fucking flea had had the decency to disappear from his sight a couple of months- not that he cares- if there was any feeling inside him, it was the gratefulness that he wouldn't have to resort to violence which went against all his values. There were couple of rumors thrown around, something like that he had plunged himself to messy businesses, serves the flea well.

Ripping the package with a cutter he kept beside his table, he saw a small album inside it, the album was yellowed with age-

inside it was something Shizuo would never expect to see.

There was two Izaya- aged about 8 from the looks of it, both of them had their hands intertwined with each other- fragile smiles adorning the pink lips of two happy twins- that was the first page.

The second page was the picture of Izaya and Shizuo, Shizuo was hitting Izaya, tearing the informant's clothes and leaving him blueblack bruises- Izaya was laughing furiously as the blood gashes down his lips.

_Now what the fucking hell is this?_

Come, Shizuo, come._  
_

_.  
_

When Shizuo realized it, his feet was already half stepping on the front of a ripped down traditional house which looks downright creepy. He didn't know why he was there, he didn't have any explanations for it- except for the fact that he's already there. Perhaps it was curiosity that had lured him to visit the clearly shady house which Izaya seemed to have branded his house- he blandly notes when he saw the sharp tag on the door- 'Orihara Residence.'_  
_

His fist clenched as if in instinct when a shudder went down his spine, as a finger poked his cheek. The finger was ice cold.

"Shizu chan." It was Izaya- wearing a red kimono with flower patterns and acting femininely, his voice having that lace of sweetness that seem so fake.  
"You came."

"What do you want, Izaya?" The question blurts itself out of his lips- dry and nervous at the sight of the man he loaths- but now it was also laced with a foreign element, that of fear.

"Come inside. We'll talk." Izaya's calm face makes him calmer too- for some reasons, so he followed the other man inside the house, all the while his instinct compels him to go out. That something was off, but Shizuo knew that running away was futile.

The corridors in the house was uncomfortable- to put it in better terms, it had a feeling in it which makes Shizuo's stomach churns, the wooden floor which creaks with each steps or the ripped out walls bothers him.

.

The tea boiled hotly in front of them, for a second Shizuo thought it was poisoned, but then he remembers that his monstrous body was immune to poison- so he could care less. Instead, he stared at Izaya- who seem worn out, his face was more pallid than usual- the kimono in his body fitting his body just perfectly. Shizuo couldn't help but notice how the thin body had faint bruises carefully concealed with decency.

Izaya meanwhile sips his tea in silence, his eyes not meeting Shizuo.

The silent was suffocating- accompanied only by the constant clicking of the clock.

"The package-" Shizuo starts.

Now he got Izaya's full attention- the scarlet eyes bore down to him, and suddenly the bitter taste of the tea he had drank sank down to him.

"I don't remember- does it really happen?" Shizuo tried to continue, he's not feeling guilty- not that he would about the thing he can't remember.

Izaya's smile strained into a simple slit. His eyes pools of unreadable scarlet pairs. If Shizuo is to be asked which part on Izaya's physiognomy he hated most- it would be the eyes, the eyes that mocks humanity and the eyes that would look so tragically destitute at the same time. It sickens him, because looking at those crimson eyes is like looking at a mirror.

"I guess... like how we only see what we want to see, so will we remember only what we want to remember." Izaya was tracing hot lines on Shizuo's stretched arms, "Shizu chan. I don't blame you for that- not because you don't remember, but because its the only thing you can do."

"What do you mean?" Shizuo asked- his voice trailing with a sense of caution.

"You're a monster. You can't do anything else but inflict violence to others. Deep inside yourself- there was a hole that was left after the hatred you feel for yourself. And you can't help it." Izaya paused for a while- assessing the other's face, "But i won't blame you for it, because its the very essence of what you are."

Shizuo registered the words dimly- somewhere within his mind he felt a right to get angry- to lash out and kill Izaya and hit him again. But it would be the very confirmation for the words.

I did hate violence.

Hate it so much that i could kill.

"Contradictions exists-"

"And it maddens you-"

"And its your nature-"

Shizuo closed his eyes- what Izaya said might as well be true. But who is he to judge him?

Letting out a defensive cackle, he spoke, "And what are you- another freak like me? You're even more worthless than me, Izaya."

"That's why." A blur on his eyes, causing Shizuo to rub his eyes, Izaya was suddenly in front of him- from his lips spouted blood, and he was laughing, "You killed me, Shizu chan. Because I am you."


End file.
